Maggie nodded. “Some things are outside my control, but you’re welcome to try to make that happen.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “I’ll bite my tongue in the house today, and I’ll try. That’s the best I can offer.”
Then with one last look at Craig, who was now sleeping on the grass again, Maggie slid her gun into her waistband and went toward the house.
49Ellie
Ellie knew Prospero was here before she’d come inside—which to her mind meant all bets were off regarding the use of magic.
“Is there a wicked witch in the house?” she called as she walked through the kitchen, hoping and praying to whatever gods were real that Hestia was not home.
But hope and prayers were as useless as spitting on a fire.
“Are you two having a tiff?” Hestia asked, looking from the woman who sat nestled beside her to Ellie.
“Are we, dear? Is that why you weren’t where you were supposed to be?” Prospero looked up, her face void of hostility. It was a lovely mask, pretending to care.
“I find liars objectionable,” Ellie said mildly. “Come say hello to me,dear. No need to hide behind my aunt’s skirts, is there?”
“Behave, girls,” Aunt Hestia said. “We have a guest.”
“Those are the cutest little soaps in your bathroom, Ms. Brandeau.” Daniel came into the room, wiping his hands on his trousers. He stopped abruptly, blanching like he’d seen something awful. “Oh. You’re here.” He glanced at Prospero. “Ellie’s here, too.”
He walked up to Prospero and reached out like he was going to touch her shoulder.
“Give us a moment?” Prospero stood and walked toward Ellie. Quietly, she said, “Maggie’s child will not wake without me. Hestia will suffer if I am injured. So, let’s try to discuss the situation civilly.”
“Threats are your version of civil?” Ellie scoffed. “Why am I not surprised?”
A flash of sorrow came over Prospero’s face. “What did I do, Ellie? I thought we had… something good between us.”
“You lied.” Ellie folded her arms over her chest and walked away toward the kitchen.
Prospero followed. “I had no choice in the decision to not tell Ms. Lynch—”
“You could’ve refused to go along with it.” Ellie spun to face her. The awkwardness of the next accusation warred with her temper, and her temper won. “Or told me that my room at the castle was not private. You… we… I’m not an exhibitionist. Were you just showing off for someone? Was anything you said true?”
Prospero looked abashed. “Honestly, Ellie, I couldn’t think of anything when you touched me. I should’ve remembered that. Ishould have.” She reached out. “You have to believe me, though. It was a mistake, not a deceit.”
“Tell me that you really want me for me, that there are no political reasons, that it has nothing to do with…” Ellie’s words faded as Prospero looked away.
“In time, I could love you. I know that to be true.”
“But?”
“But there was a prophecy about you, and you are the first new head of house in—”
“I don’t want any of that,” Ellie yelled. “I wanted you and—”
“I’m here.” Prospero caught Ellie’s hand. “I’m yours. I’m here and yours, and I do want a chance. And I’m sorry if you were embarrassed that we were… indiscreet. That was not planned.”
“You lied.”
“Not by choice.” Prospero kept hold of her hand, and in that moment it took everything Ellie had not to swoon into her. “I am bound by the Congress of Magic, Ellie. You are, too. All witches are.”
“I’m not going back.” Ellie pulled away. “I would rather be siphoned. I thought that you… thatwewere worth staying longer, trying, but I can’t. You—your Congress—told Maggie her kid was dead. What other lies have you told?”
“You are coming back. It’s not your choice. The chief witch decided—”
“What? Are you going to try to mind assault me again?” Ellie turned to go back to the living room. She paused then and looked over her shoulder. “You’d really do that? They sent you and Monahan here. He boosts magic and…” Her words trailed off as the pieces clicked together.
